


You Still L̶o̶v̶e̶ Like Me?

by ReederJoe



Series: Transboy!Dan AU [3]
Category: Phandom, dan and phil
Genre: Confessions, Dan remembering pre-transition things, Fluff, Lots of Touching, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Transboy!Dan, anxiety overload, possibly tw for body image? (top surgery scars), serious discussion, so stubborn, they're so in love but they won't admit it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9298874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReederJoe/pseuds/ReederJoe
Summary: Dan decides it's time to tell Phil the truth. Stubborn boys in love, but you can bet your bottom dollar they're not going to say it out loud.





	

It’d been five months since we met, and we were already spending the night with each other. There was some part of me that constantly bitched about how fast things were going, and if it had been anyone else, I would have listened to that voice in my head. But in all my life, even including those years before, I’d never felt quite like this about another person, man or woman. I’d known for a long time, of course, that I was attracted to men. After I first got diagnosed with poly-cystic ovaries, and the hormones caused me to gain weight and grow hair like there was no tomorrow, I still only felt an attraction to men. Now that I’d gotten rid of every single thing that had made a woman, I had no idea what to label myself as.

            Was I gay because I was a man who liked other men? Or was I bisexual, because I liked men as a woman, too? Maybe I was something else entirely, and there just wasn’t a name for it yet. My mandatory run in the Trans support group had ended a while back, but maybe I should be going still. Maybe there was somebody there who knew how to deal with it. Right after my surgery, when I was sitting in on the meetings and holding an ice pack to my new crotch, I’d find myself looking around the room and wondering how these people felt about themselves. Some of them had been living the Trans life for so long, it was almost impossible to tell that they used to be different. Others had only just begun their transition, crossdressing and chest-binding and one of them had always ended up sniffling and crying. The thought of it usually made me want to puke, but I’d always found myself holding back a few tears, too.

            These were all things I’d have to deal with, and soon. Phil and I had been staying with each other more and more, and last night had almost been it. It wasn’t the first night we’d spent together, but things heated up pretty quickly, and I was starting to really hate having to pull myself away from him. I knew it had to be driving him crazy, too, but he wouldn’t let on that it bothered him at all. Maybe it was a gay thing, but I’d never met a man who was so patient about it.

            This morning I sat myself at the counter and sipped from a glass of milk. Actual breakfast was pretty much out of the question this early in the morning. I could hear Phil snoring still, and I smiled to myself, even though it was actually pretty annoying. I could live with it. As I waited for him to wake up, I reached across the counter for the newspaper. The front page was full of political debates and interviews from the night before. I thought about reading up on them, but then decided I didn’t care. I tossed the paper to the side and lifted the glass to my lips again. As I set it back down, I felt a pair of hands snake around my waist and a chin on my shoulder.

            “Hey,” he greeted as I leaned back slightly, taking in his warmth. I could feel that he wore no shirt, and his skin was smooth against my bare back. There was a soft shuffling and then his lips pressed against my cheek. As he pulled himself away from me, I grabbed his arm and brought him back, turning toward him slightly. Our lips met briefly, softly, and we both sighed quietly at the contact.

            “About last night,” he started, pulling away again. I opened my mouth to tell him not to worry, or to apologize, and then I realized that maybe it would be good to talk about it. Maybe I could put my balls to use for once and tell him the truth. I couldn’t hide it forever, not if I wanted anything long-term. And I did want long-term. I was pretty sure I was falling in love with him.

            “We should talk about that,” I whispered, skin tingling as he brought his hand to my face. His thumb rubbed gently at the space beneath my eye, and I could feel my heart fluttering. I laid my own hand over his for a moment, and then I stood up. Our hands fell to our sides, fingers laced together. “I need to tell you,” I continued, leading us to the sofa. Once we were seated, his hands began roaming over my chest, and I took them both in my own so he couldn’t distract me. It was important that I got the words out. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself until I did.

            He seemed to understand, finally, the seriousness of the conversation hanging in the air. His eyes held that familiar cloud of lust, and as I watched, they became clear. I couldn’t help but smile. He pulled one of his hands free and wrapped it around my neck, just brushing the underside of my ear. I gathered strength from his touch, eyes closed, and finally my mouth opened.

            “There are things about me,” I began, gripping his hand and arm tightly. “Things you don’t know.” Already, I felt exhausted, and I wondered if I would be able to do it. Phil watched me with an expression of what I would describe as adoration, nothing but patience in his eyes now. I hoped he was preparing himself for this. After a few seconds of debating what to say next, I decided to just say exactly what I was thinking. “I don’t really know how to do this,” I told him, and as soon as the words left my mouth, I realized what they might mean to him. His hand fell from my face and his eyes clouded over again slightly. I let him say what I knew was coming before I went on.

            “Are you breaking up with me?” he asked in a whisper, holding my gaze. I shook my head before he got through the sentence and reached for his hand, the one that had been on my skin just a moment ago.

            “No,” I assured him, hoping that my tone was enough. I tugged on his hand, wanting him to put it back under my ear, and he obliged with a smile. Sometimes it was weird how well we seemed to know each other, like we could read each other’s minds. With his palm on my skin again, I breathed out a small sigh. “This helps,” I said, patting his hand. He smiled at that, and I tried to continue.

            “You don’t have to worry,” he said suddenly, tightening his grip on my neck. His lips curled up into a smile as he added, “Unless you’ve killed a guy.” He laughed at his joke and ran his other hand through my hair. “I’ll help you hide the body.” And then he was serious again, still holding onto me with both hands. “Don’t beat yourself up over this, whatever it is.” He leaned in just a little closer, hot breath tickling my lips. “I’ll still like you, no matter what.” The words left his mouth in a hurry and I couldn’t help but laugh.

            “I like you, too,” I told him quickly, before he could get upset by my reaction. I pulled him close to me and kissed him gently. My skin was about to catch on fire, I was so anxious. I grabbed onto his shoulder with one hand and wrapped the other into the curls falling over his face. “I really do. I wouldn’t be this damn nervous if I didn’t.”

            The smile that formed on his face was breathtaking. He held me close to him, our chests pressing together, and I wondered vaguely if he could feel the scar there, the only reminder that I wasn’t always like this. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, where it met my shoulder, and I did the same to him. We stayed like that for a few minutes, just holding each other, reveling in the fact that we both felt the same way. I gathered a renewed strength from the embrace, and all of a sudden, I felt confident that I could tell him. I could tell him anything, and he’d still feel the same.

            “Hate to break us up,” I mumbled against his skin, “But I still got something to say.” Reluctantly, he pulled away from me, but kept both hands on my neck. The smile on his face was unbreakable, and I hoped that it would still be that way after I spoke again.

            “Remember my sister?” I asked, deciding to go in the easy way. I’d debated whether or not to just rip the band-aid off, but I didn’t want to throw him into the deep end without a paddle. His eyes clouded over with confusion, but he nodded slowly.

            “Jaycee,” he acknowledged, and I felt a twang of sadness in my heart, remembering that life. As much as I enjoyed who I was now, there would always be a part of me that missed her. He looked away for a moment, and then his eyes were locked with mine again, blue to brown. His brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to say, “You said she died, but you never got around to telling me how it happened.” I could tell he hated bringing any of it up. He was probably thinking that it hurt me to think about it.

            “Yeah,” I agreed, moving my hand up his shoulder to rest at the base of his neck. He shivered ever so slightly at my touch. “Thing is, I wasn’t exactly honest about that.” I felt the tension in his grip, but I had no idea what he might be thinking. He didn’t say anything in response, so I continued. “I never lied about her existence. I’m not a psycho,” I told him with a smile, and we both laughed. It was a nervous laugh, but still. “And she did die, just not the way you’re probably imagining it.” I kind of hoped he’d figure it out before I had to say the words myself. I knew he was familiar with transgender people, but I doubted he’d ever met one before now. I sighed deeply and prepared myself to say it.

            “I was Jaycee. She was me.”

            His jaw dropped. Literally. His eyes popped open wide, and his hands fell from my face. I tried not to show my disappointment at the loss of contact with his skin. I kept a firm grip on him, though, and I waited patiently while he tried to process what I’d said. His eyes moved down my body, focusing on my chest, and recognition passed through him as he stared at the two faded scars running under each nipple. He reached out with a shaky hand and traced a finger over each dark line, as if trying to paint the picture of how they might have looked before. And then his eyes dropped to my stomach, where there was a tuft of dark hair around my navel. That had always been there, even before. Back up to my chest, between my nipples, where another patch of dark hair stared back at him. I watched him wearily, hoping for things to be okay, but not daring to speak until he did.

            And then, his face turned red as a beet. He hadn’t moved his eyes from my chest, but I knew exactly what he’d just thought of. That realization turned me on slightly, and with a quick glance at his crotch, I knew he was, too. That actually made me feel a little better about the situation, because obviously he was still attracted to me, physically. He finally lowered his head, looking at the space between my legs, trying to figure out what exactly was underneath the fabric of my pants. I would have gladly shown him, but I had the feeling he wasn’t quite ready to see it in the flesh.

            After what seemed like a lifetime, his eyes focused on mine again, and what I saw in them was shocking, even though it was exactly what I’d hoped for. It was more than what I’d dared to hope for, which was acceptance. I’d gone into this knowing that I might lose him, but not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine this outcome. And yet, here was, plain on his face. Without a word, he crawled over me, up to my face, and placed his hands on each cheek. He shifted a bit, straddling me, and then his lips were on mine, fierce. I could feel him underneath me, pressing into my stomach, and I wished very badly at that moment that I had the ability to get a natural erection. It seemed very convenient to have that, to be able to show another person that you liked them, despite what they might think about themselves.

            “Gotta say,” he whispered against my lips, breathing heavily. “Didn’t expect that.” He pulled away slightly, looked into my eyes. I saw nothing of the fear I’d been anticipating. No judgement or impatience. He’d been so patient with me anyway, and now he knew why it’d been so hard for me. And I saw gratitude, as well. Perhaps for allowing him to find out before we tried to have sex. I could only imagine how it might have gone if I hadn’t stopped him last night. If he’d managed to strip me down, see my naked body, where I couldn’t pretend anymore. I could only imagine how disastrous that might have been, and the look he gave me now told me I would have been right. He could handle this, but not like that. His lips were on mine again before I had the chance to say anything.

            “Good thing I don’t have plans today,” I laughed, breaking away from him again. His chest heaved, and I could tell he was scared. Not even from this incredible secret I’d just revealed to him. I was pretty terrified of his rejection, even now, but I could see in his eyes that he was just as afraid. Neither of us had forgotten the words he’d spoken only a few moments ago, thought it felt like years now. My arms had been wrapped loosely around him, but now I pulled them free and cupped his face the way he’d held mine before, fingers gently brushing under his ears. He shivered again at my touch, and I smiled widely. “You still like me?” I asked, feeling him settle his weight onto me fully. It was like a warm blanket, safe and secure. I shuffled back a bit, leaning against the armrest. We weren’t lying flat, but I had the feeling we would be soon.

            “Are you crazy?” he breathed, pressing his lips to my chest. He raised his head to look at me again, and his next words were somewhat surprising. “Do you remember the day I caught you looking at that picture of Jaycee?” I did remember. He’d been with us at work for almost a month, and I’d had a real shitty day. Things had been so bad that I spent most of it hiding out, staring at the one picture I had left of myself from before. I’d found myself tearing up about it, thinking that maybe I’d made the wrong choice. Maybe I shouldn’t have given her up. After a second of thought, I nodded my head. He smiled slightly and continued, leaning into my palms. His eyes slide shut. “You were crying,” he said, “and I’d wanted more than anything to wrap you up in my arms and give you shoulder to cry on. But I had no idea how you’d respond to that, especially since we live right in the middle of the Bible belt.”

            “I hadn’t meant for you to hear me. I knew you didn’t want anyone to see you like that, or you wouldn’t have hidden. But you did hear me, and when you turned to look at me, I’d seen the girl in the picture,” he whispered this last bit, and I thought I knew where this was going. “My first thought was that she was your girlfriend, and you were missing her or something. And then I thought that you wouldn’t be crying like that unless something had happened to her.” He paused then, looked into my eyes once more. “It was very selfish of me, but when I saw that picture, the first thing I thought of was that I wished I was her.” My brow furrowed at this, confusion seeping in, and he reached a hand out to smooth my forehead. “You cared very much about the person in that photo, and I wanted it to be me that you cared for that deeply,” he explained. “I’d known at that point that it was hopeless. I’d fallen for you, hard.” His eyes teared up slightly. “I was pretty pissed about it at first, because I didn’t think you were gay. I figured my feelings were a lost cause.”

            “And that’s when you asked me if I was okay,” I replied, knowing what was going on now. He was telling me about the moment he knew. “You mentioned that she was pretty, I think. Asked me if she was my girlfriend.” He leaned in to kiss me quickly, then, before moving on. His lips lingered near my mouth.

            “When you told me she was your sister,” he breathed, sending a shiver down my spine, “I hated how happy I felt. It wasn’t the kind of situation I should have been happy in.” He turned his head slightly and pressed our cheeks together for a moment. It was like he couldn’t get close enough. “That’s the day I knew,” he said simply.

            He pushed away from me suddenly, sitting up straight. I came right up with him, and I realized just how tight my grip on him had been. I guess I couldn’t get close enough, either. We sat facing each other, just staring, and then, that hunger I’d heard about and read about, came over me. I’d never known it to be real, never believed in it, really. Up until that moment in my life, I’d never understood how someone could be so attracted to another. How they could be so turned on, or comforted. I knew now that it was only because I hadn’t met the right person. The man I held tightly in my arms now was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, no doubt about it. It went against everything I’d ever thought was right about these things. But sometimes, things just don’t go your way.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, look at that cliffhanger.


End file.
